


I Love You Deerly

by DNMcGillicuddy



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: Canadian frontier AU, M/M, a lot of nude dude Frank going on, spirits walk among us, the deer kingdom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 16:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14217078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DNMcGillicuddy/pseuds/DNMcGillicuddy
Summary: What if Whitechapel was a quaint Canadian frontier town, and spirits still roamed the earth? All it took was an early morning, a faulty fence, and running his mouth to the wrong person to tip Sam Drummond into a world he was in no way prepared for... Oh deer.





	I Love You Deerly

 Drum wasn’t sure at first what woke him up. The thin grey light of morning was creeping into his room, but it was weak, and barely touched his bed at this hour. The house was silent, even the yard outside sounded devoid of activity. He lay still, straining for something, anything, as the watery light slipped up the foot of the bed. Then on the very edge of hearing, a soft ting of metal. Drum tensed. A moment later, he heard it again. Carefully he slid out of bed and crept to the window. Peering out cautiously, his heart pounding, he observed several deer wandering around the yard. The metal sound was them jumping the fence, and their hooves occasionally clipping the top layer of wire.

 Drum felt a little silly for his nerves, but he was still getting used to the sounds of nature. He watched the deer a little longer; they were a lot bigger than he’d thought they’d be. He stood and watched them wander around the yard for a while. They seemed to like eating all his clover patches, and the one buck among them carefully ate all the yellow flowers off of the plants his mother had left by the barn. They were pretty but silly animals, Drum thought, as one of the does actually came up to the bird feeder near the window. She stuck her nose into it, and awkwardly tried to lick some of the feed out.

 He retreated from the window and stared around the cabin. Sleep wasn’t an option now, so he figured he might as well start the day. He went through the routine fairly fast- logs in the stove, food prepared, clothing at least partly donned, then sit and wait for the kettle while reviewing last night’s notes. He was still worrying over the rest of the tools arriving, but he could at least finish sawing down the trees and hauling logs back here. Two of the other homesteaders had offered a hand if he needed it. Drum had been headed to the small outpost postal cabin and stopped to help the pair pull their extremely rowdy and inebriated friend out of a tree. How he’d gotten up there while that crocked was anyone’s guess. But in thanks for his help, the pair had offered their services. They were Ed Reid from 3 farms over, and… Benoit Drake? Brenner? Bennet? Whatever his name was, he’d been more pleasant than his drunken friend Jackson. No one that drunk at 10 in the morning had any business owning pistols. Or getting stuck in trees.

 As he tried to forget Jackson and his arboreal adventures, Drum heard two shots ring out in the distance. Maybe Jackson knew someone was thinking about him? Drum stifled a laugh as he got up and shifted the kettle. The metallic ping of the deer intensified, and a peek through the window confirmed that they were fleeing the yard. A shame, he thought, as he poured most of the kettle into his canteen, it would have been interesting to try and get close to them.

 A new, terrifying sound ripped through the tiny cabin, jumping Drum out of his contemplation and nearly his boots. A barking scream like nothing he could have imagined sent him leaping for his rifle. His heart beating wildly, he peeked out the kitchen window, and scanned the yard. Now devoid of deer, it felt suspiciously empty. The magic tranquility of the deer had fled with them, leaving an emptiness that set Drum’s teeth on edge. The scream echoed through the trees again, and Drum leaned against the window, scanning the yard.

 To Drum’s surprise, the sound was a deer. It had tried to jump the fence, but had caught its back legs in the loose top wires. Despite thinking it was a majestic creature minute before, the buck, hanging upside down bugling madly, was possibly the funniest thing Drum had ever seen. The poor creature was thrashing and tangling himself further, and Drum was struck by the need to help it. As he pulled on his coat and stepped outside it occurred to him that he really had no idea what he was doing, having never had this kind of interaction with a wild animal, but after dealing with Jackson, how bad could a mad deer be?

 He went to the barn and got the bolt cutters and a saw just in case, then started across the yard. He remembered being told to approach animals slowly, making his presence as calming and unthreatening as he could. Unsure if carrying edged tools qualified as calming, Drum did his best to remain unthreatening. The buck froze when it caught sight of him, its terrified eyes rolling madly despite its sudden stillness.

 “I’m here to help,” Drum felt silly, but if talking softly helped deal with the anxious horses, and even the odd chicken, maybe this would too. “Don’t worry; I’m here to help get you loose.” The deer was still, but he could feel the terror rolling off of it in waves. “These,” he held the bolt cutters forward, “These are bolt cutters, I’m going to cut the metal and let you out.” He continued to narrate his movements as he negotiated the cutters up into the tangle of metal, trying to avoid the hooves as best he could. The first loud snap and twang of metal sent the poor buck into a frenzy, bugling madly and pulling away.

 “Stop!” Drum snapped. “You have to stop, I’m not done!” As he spoke he unthinkingly slapped his hand against the buck’s side. It went still, head swinging around to stare at him balefully. “I can’t help you if you don’t stay still you idiot!” He waited a moment, but the deer showed no signs of moving. Again he carefully negotiated the cutters up and snipped. The deer struggled again, but less vigorously.

 “I’m sorry you’re scared,” Drum said in a sing-song voice. “It’s a lot of fence wires you got caught in,” He waited for the deer to calm. “I’m a little impressed, actually.” He continued, snipping another wire. “You actually pulled up several wires you shouldn’t have been able to. That’s why you’re so stuck. If I didn’t know better I’d say you grew human hands and made it worse before I got here.” He paused again as the deer wriggled. “Look, deer, if you move every time I cut a wire we’ll be here until next week. And I have chores to do! I have to get logs and drag them all the way home! And maybe deal with Jackson again! I’m sure you have some appointments to get to. Maybe you have a Mrs. Deer to get home to? Or some little fawns.” He was rambling, but the inherent ridiculousness of talking to a deer kept him going. “I guess Mr. Deer wouldn’t work, would it? That would be like calling me ‘Mr. Human’ or something,” He paused again for the wriggling to stop. “I guess you need a name. How about Fred, would you like that?” The deer’s head swung around, and it gave him a strange look. If he didn’t know better he’d say it was irritated. “Jedediah?” He tried. The buck snorted at him. “Aren’t we picky,” He was down to the last few wires. “I can’t just call you deer- you have to have a name. My name is Sam Drummond. I prefer Drum though,”

 The last wire twanged, and the deer hit the ground with a loud squawk of indignation. Drum took a few steps back and watched the deer flail and roll over. Instead of standing, it blurred, and all of a sudden, in its place knelt a naked man. Drum felt everything go numb as his mind went blank. He couldn’t process this- maybe the deer had kicked him in the head and now he was hallucinating.

 “My name is Frank.” Said the deer-man in a sharp tone, and he stood up, stepping closer to the fence. He glared at Drum haughtily, while all Drum could do was stare back in confused shock. Frank seemed either unaware or unconcerned that he was very naked in the early morning sun, as his entire being was busy vibrating with irritation at Drum’s apparently sub-par naming options. Drum couldn’t figure out how to process any of this, so he just stood, staring back, and waiting for someone else to figure out what was happening. He had to admit Frank was nice to stare at- he had full lips and blue eyes that made him look playful despite a jawline one could easily associate with a mountain ridge. His body was as lithe and muscular in human form as it had been in deer form, though the hair that covered it was darker.

 Their staring contest was interrupted by the sound of horses coming down the driveway. Drum snapped out of his staring and looked towards the sound. Reid and Drake, with a thankful lack of Jackson, were headed up the lane. Drum looked back to Frank, but the man was gone. Eyes raking the tree line, he searched for a sign of Frank, but it was as if he’d disappeared into thin air.

**Author's Note:**

> For the zero of you who are curious, Frank is a Rocky Mountain Mule Deer.
> 
> The setting of this is roughly on the BC side of the Rockies.
> 
> If you want a good laugh, youtube "deer hopping" or "deer snort wheeze" (it's a male aggression display) then imagine Frank doing either of those things.


End file.
